


An Illness of the Mind

by consideritalljoy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Gen, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 08:57:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11399307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consideritalljoy/pseuds/consideritalljoy
Summary: Thrawn's studies in human sciences reveal that Eli doesn't adhere to many well-known requirements of human health, prompting him to ask if all is well.





	An Illness of the Mind

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [An Illness of the Mind](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14936969) by [Ellinel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellinel/pseuds/Ellinel)



> Dedicated to Moomkin, Bro Star of the Chiss Ascendency.  
> And to anyone out there reading who loves Thrawn and fights mental illness. Ya’ll are warriors—don’t forget it. 
> 
> Trigger Warning: Self-harm, Eating disorders, Child abuse, Xenophobia (more detail at end of fic)

Eli informed Thrawn that he was called “alien” in reference to being non-human, and that it was meant as an insult. According to Thrawn’s own definition, however, an “alien” simply referred to a foreigner, and that, he most certainly was. 

As a foreigner among a species he knew little of and would need to live among indefinitely, Thrawn needed to learn as much of the humans as he could in the shortest amount of time possible. 

He started with the library. Within a month, he expanded his field of study to scientific studies. The medical studies in particular intrigued him. After a particularly long evening spent reading complex studies on human digestive health, he began to notice it. 

His roommate was not adhering to well-known requirements of human health. 

“Would you like to join me in going to the mess hall?” Thrawn asked, standing from his desk and moving toward the door. He stopped and waited for Eli to rise, but, not too much to Thrawn’s surprise so much as to his concern, Eli did not. 

“Not tonight. I’ve got stuff to do,” he said without looking up. 

“Am I incorrect in remembering that you said the same of our last meal, several hours ago?” Thrawn asked. 

“Nope. I’m just not hungry. And like I said, I have things to do. Just go without me.” _His voice becomes more coarse, and hardened. His pitch rises slightly. His words become clipped._

“Would you like me to bring you anything?” Thrawn pressed. 

“I said just go, alright? I don’t have time for this,” Eli snapped back. Thrawn obeyed. Something was definitely wrong, but what, he could not tell in the slightest. 

When he returned not long after, Thrawn walked slowly. The air smelled faintly of smoke. “Eli?” he asked, genuinely confused. There was no reason for Eli to have required fire. 

“What now?” Eli answered. _His pitch starts high, and then lowers. His mouth spreads outward, creating a purer ă sound. His accent renders such a tone typical, yes, but this is intentionally exaggerated, as though lighthearted. It is the tone he uses to denote a joke._

“I do not understand. In what way is this a joke?” Thrawn asked. 

_Eli’s facial muscles stiffen._ “Who are you calling a joke?” _Now, his tone and expression denote defensive anger._ He hooked his arm across the back of his chair and used it as leverage to twist his torso around to Thrawn. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbows.

“Forgive me. I must have misunderstood. As for your question, I wanted to ask if you knew why the room smells of smoke.” Eli’s actions were as if he were personifying expressions and tones falsely, and missing certain cues. Implicitly lying, as it were. As Eli spoke, Thrawn processed more of the room and of him. Something was different. 

The sleeves, he realized. When they had first come to the Academy, Eli had always rolled them up. After a few weeks, he stopped. They were rolled up again now. Thrawn looked more closely as his arm, hoping Eli wouldn’t notice. 

Tiny raised red marks dotted the forearm. True, Eli’s “freckles,” as he called them, were quite normal, but these were different even from those. Freckles weren’t raised. 

Eli rolled his eyes and sighed impatiently. “I don’t know. Maybe someone down the hall lit a death stick or something. I wouldn’t put it past these guys to have access to stuff like that.” 

Thrawn nearly asked about the raised freckles before remembering a specific medical study he’d read. The dots he was looking at on Eli’s arm matched the criteria for scabs. “Why do you have scabs on your arm?”

Eyes wide, Eli yanked his sleeve back over his arm and turned back around to his desk. “No more questions tonight, Thrawn. I’m busy.” 

Thrawn did not inquire further that night, but he continued to examine Eli more closely in the following days. Both objects of concern—refusal to eat and smoke mixed with scabs—continued. In fact, as Thrawn surreptitiously glanced at Eli changing into his uniform in the mornings, he could see the number of scabs increasing, and enlarge. 

Additionally, Thrawn couldn’t remember the last time he saw Eli asleep. He was awake when Thrawn fell asleep, and seemingly hadn’t moved when Thrawn awoke. He asked about it once. Eli said he’d gone to bed shortly after Thrawn had, and awoken not long before. Even if that were true, Eli couldn’t get more than a few hours a night that way, when he needed 7.5. The tone he used lead Thrawn to believe his human roommate was partially lying to him, anyway. 

He walked into their room at an unusual hour, not knowing when Eli would be back. Eli was already inside. As Thrawn opened the door, he heard a few words spoken in a gruff voice, similar to Eli’s own, but lower, more worn, and colder. A hologram. Eli’s father. 

Eli quickly stammered a goodbye and the hologram disappeared. _His posture is slumped, and then straightens considerably. He breathes in deeply from his nose. His facial expression flickers from emotionless to decidedly cheerful, but his muscles remain tensed._ “I didn’t expect you back for a while yet,” he said.

Thrawn nodded. “Indeed. Was that your father?”

“Yeah.” Eli fiddled with the items in his drawer. The tension in his muscles remained. 

“Eli, may I ask something of you?” Thrawn began. 

Eli snorted. “Like you don’t all the time anyway. What’s up this time?” 

Thrawn turned his chair around toward Eli and sat, placing his hands on his thighs and leaning very slightly forward. “This time it is a personal question. Are you in good health?”

“What kind of a question is that? Of course I am,” Eli said, jerking his head back and furrowing his eyebrows. 

“In that case, I have several more questions. Why have you not been eating? Why have you not been sleeping? Why did your conversation with your father seem so tensed? Why are there scabs—likely burn marks, given the smoke—on your arm?” Several times during his line of questions, Eli looked ready to cut in. Thrawn didn’t give him the room. 

As soon as Thrawn finished, Eli spoke up. “How many times have I got to tell you, I’m busy! These classes aren’t easy for everyone, you know. We aren’t all brilliant. Some of us are supposed to be lightyears away learning how to be a supply officer, not stuck here translating for some alien who, quite obviously, does not need a translator.” The word: alien. One Eli had told him was an insult, and not one Eli himself used toward him. His tone and voice held nothing but contempt. No, Thrawn realized. Not solely. 

“You are afraid,” Thrawn said, to himself as much as to Eli. “Afraid, and ashamed. Why?” 

Blood rushed to Eli’s face and his nostrils flared. “I didn’t ask for this, you know. I didn’t ask for you.” _The last word is emphasized._

“That isn’t an answer,” Thrawn stated. 

“What do you want from me?” Eli shouted. 

“Eli. You aren’t acting according to the criteria for a healthy human. If you are unhealthy in any way, I wish to help. That is what I want from you; I want to know how to help you.” 

“You can’t.” The words were meant to bite. 

“I could have you reassigned.” 

“Don’t,” came the quick reply. “I’ll just get over it, that’s all.” 

“Must you get over it alone?” Thrawn cautiously pressed.

“Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know.” _He begins the words clipped and finishes them elongated. He lets out all his breath on the last three. His shoulders sag. His muscles begin to relax slightly._

Thrawn waited silently for a few seconds to see if he would continue. 

“It’s just been really different here, you know?” Eli continued just as Thrawn hoped. “I know I said before that I wasn’t going to leave you to face all the xenophobia alone, but it does put me in a pretty tight spot. And it’s not like it’s easy for me, either. I’m from Wild Space. 

“And it’s not exactly like my family is keen on you either. They aren’t at all, actually. They’re constantly telling me to ask about getting reassigned. I’ve told them it doesn’t work like that but they won’t listen. They want me back on Myomar. Well, really they want me back on Lysatra. They know that one’s not an option at least. 

“I know that all sounds stupid. It adds up, alright? Like I said, we aren’t all brilliant. I guess I kind of tricked myself into thinking I was something when I was on Myomar and I was top of every class. Really they were all just way easier than this. I’m talking way too much. I mean, you’re the one who got exiled from whatever planet it was and then got brought over here to this place you don’t know at all, and suddenly no one else is blue, right? Hell, you don’t even know what self-harm is, apparently…” _He pauses, tensing his muscles momentarily. He did not intend to reveal all he said. Particularly the last words._

“You are right to assume I do not know that term. What is self-harm?” Thrawn asked. 

Eli looked to the floor. “Just forget it.” _He draws his arms closer to his torso and sags his shoulders more, as though protecting his core._ “It’s nothing.”

“Krayt spit,” Thrawn objected. 

Something almost akin to amusement crossed Eli’s face for a moment. “Alright, alright. It’s when someone causes themselves harm. Pretty self-explanatory,” Eli answered dismissively. “I’m fine.” 

“Why would an individual choose to do themselves harm?” Thrawn asked. 

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Eli said.

“Do all humans do this?”

Eli snorted. “Not remotely. Look, it’s… it’s not great. Probably try to avoid it. People do it when they get too stressed is all.” 

That seemed completely illogical to Thrawn. If a human were stressed, the most effective way to reduce that stress would be to remain healthy and combat the source of the stress, not to deliberately reduce the body’s ability to function. “How does it help?”

“When your body wants you to do something, like… sleep or eat, or something, it gets hard not to do it, right? Self-harm is like that. You get stressed, and your body wants you to let some of the stress out, so it starts telling you to hurt yourself. It doesn’t make too much sense really, but it doesn’t have to. It gets hard to ignore, so you do it. It helps, kind of.” _The words are halting._

“But you haven’t been sleeping or eating,” Thrawn pointed out. 

Eli nodded. “Sleeping got hard a while ago, so I decided I may as well get homework done if I was going to lie awake anyway. And eating… well. There’s a lot of reasons. Don’t really want to be around the other cadets when I don’t have to for class, for one. Don’t want to give people another reason to laugh, either. The accent is enough, believe me.” 

Thrawn nodded. “I do believe you, Eli. Even so, such action is not healthy. You require far more caloric units than you are currently intaking. Harming yourself as a form of stress relief is not healthy either. You say your body wants you to do these things. Actions performed by the body are commands of the mind. Is it your mind that is unhealthy?”

“…Yeah. You could say that,” Eli admitted. 

“The mind is the source of thought and control over the body. For it to be unhealthy is a grave illness. What actions can be taken towards the recovery of your mind, if it is currently ill?” 

Eli shrugged. 

“These burns. How are they administered?”

“I’ve got some matches.”

Hence the smoke. “I see. Please give them to me.” He held out his hand.

Eli drew in breath slowly. As he let it all out again, his chest seemed to cave in on him and he hung his head forward so that hair covered his eyes. His expression was unreadable, but his body language was more than enough. 

His right arm extended and his hand found his top drawer. He opened it and lifted out a small box. Rather than hand the box to Thrawn, he drew his hand back to his chest where Thrawn couldn't see. 

“I could always get more,” he said. 

“I don't think you would. If you did, I would report it.” 

For a moment, Thrawn couldn’t tell what Eli was going to do. Without raising his head, Eli very slowly held out the box and dropped it into Thrawn’s outstretched palm. 

“Thank you,” Thrawn said, placing them into his own drawer. “Please don’t resort to harming yourself as a way to relieve stress. If you find that you are without other options, perhaps together we will be able to seek others. Is there any other way in which we can-” He stopped. 

Eli’s shoulders were shaking. 

“Eli? Do you require assistance of some kind?” Thrawn asked. 

“No. Well. Maybe,” Eli sniffed. _His throat is contracting._ Without moving his body, Eli lifted his head. His face was streaked with tears. “Do you, like… actually care about this? Or is this because I’m your translator?” _He has trouble maintaining eye contact. His eyes flit around the room nervously._

“I do not believe the two are mutually exclusive,” Thrawn said. “Yours is a vital job to me, but it is also what brought us together. I ask because we are together. I do not wish for you to bear this pain alone.” _Eli blinks and nods as if trying to understand a difficult concept._ “Is this hard to accept for some reason?” he asked. 

“Kind of,” Eli started. “Well, not really. I understand what you’re saying. It’s just…” _He looks away again. His arms draw closer to his core._ “No one’s ever said that to me.”

“They should have more often, then. In any case, I am now.” Thrawn waited silently while Eli processed what he was saying. 

First, Eli froze. Then, he started shaking again. Finally, fresh tears ran steaming down his cheeks and joining to roll down his neck. 

“Would you like me to come closer?” Thrawn asked. 

Eli didn’t speak, but he nodded, and that was all the invitation Thrawn needed. The Chiss moved to the floor next to Eli and placed a hand on Eli’s knee. Neither spoke for several minutes. 

“I can’t combat an illness of your mind for you, Eli,” Thrawn said. “What I can do is help you while you fight it.” 

A quick convolution of his chest and a small gasping sound seemed to encompass Eli’s attempt at a laugh. “You’re already doing better than pretty much anyone else. You didn’t have much competition.” 

“Competition does not concern me. I wish only to excel.” 

More tears. Thrawn didn’t know quite what to make of them. As far as he was aware, tears were an external manifestation of sadness. His every attempt at comfort thus far had brought about a new wave of them. Yet, Eli seemed to insist that his words were helping. “Does crying help?” 

“Um, sometimes,” Eli said. _His tone, though rough with the restriction of his throat, signals a definition._ “Remember how I said your body tells you to self-harm sometimes in order to let the stress out? Sometimes crying does the same thing. People tend to avoid it, though.”

“Why avoid it if it helps in the same way but without damage to one’s self?” Thrawn asked. 

“I guess I don’t really know. People think it’s weak.” Eli grinned, but it was a sardonic grin. “Maybe that’s why it fits me so well.” 

“It seems like a sound tactical decision to me. Every warrior may be overwhelmed; it is then that a different strategy must be employed to reduce the odds of defeat. In your case, the stress must be filtered somewhere. We’ve ruled self-harm out as an option. You say crying creates a similar effect, without damage to the body. Crying seems useful to me,” he finished.

Eli kept crying. “I guess you’re right again,” he choked out eventually. 

“Take as long as you need,” Thrawn said. 

Eli took him up on that. The pair continued in that position for hours. Upon separation and throughout the next few days, Thrawn expanded his study to include more focus on cognitive health.

The more Thrawn read on cognitive health and the more time he spent with Eli, the more he realized one simple fact: Eli’s journey towards recovery would be a long one. Thrawn planned to be there for all of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning Explanations
> 
> Self-harm: Not shown; a character burns their arm with matches. Scabs mentioned.  
> Eating disorders: A character refuses to eat and briefly discusses symptoms of anorexia.  
> Child abuse: Implicit; briefly referenced.  
> Xenophobia: Briefly discussed and briefly verbally implied "on-screen." 
> 
> If there is anything you feel I should have warned for and didn't, or anything you need to know specifically that I didn't list, please feel free to comment so I can tell you/fix the issue. :)


End file.
